


Meet the Parent

by Dbaw3



Series: The Benefactor [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, M/M, Objectification, human urinal, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dbaw3/pseuds/Dbaw3
Summary: Now that Stiles and Derek are dating, it's time they had a family dinner with John.





	Meet the Parent

Stiles sighed as he took a long, slow drink.

He’d been nervous as hell all evening, bouncing around between the living room and the kitchen trying to make sure everything was ready.

He and Derek had been dating for two weeks, and everything was going great. They’d managed to balance their time at work–Derek managing back of house of The Benefactor and Stiles being the restaurant’s urinal–with their social life, and Stiles couldn’t be happier.

So why had he made the stupid decision to invite Derek over to have dinner with him and his dad?

His nerves must have finally gotten too much for his dad, as one moment, he was looking out the window beside the door–again–and the next his dad was firmly putting on his knees before hauling out his dick to piss.

Just like every other time since he was diagnosed as a uro, his father’s urine hitting the back of his throat instantly calmed him. There was a long, biological explanation as to why that worked, but it seemed that any uro drinking the piss of a close, male family member received beneficial side effects from it, and the closer relationship the better. His dad’s urine had all but replaced Stiles’ need for his ADHD meds as a teenager, in fact, and he always kept a bottle of it with him throughout class, taking a sip or two whenever he felt his focus slipping.

Now, he could feel his nerves melt away as he leisurely drank from his father’s cock, his dad obviously regulating his flow so that it would last longer, and Stiles had time to get his head back in the right space.

Which was, of course, when the doorbell rang. 

Stiles was almost nervous enough to commit the urinal cardinal sin of getting up before the man was finished with him, but fortunately his dad already had a comforting hand on his shoulder, which kept him in place, even as John shouted, “Come in.”

Stiles had his back to the door, but he could hear Derek open the door and come in, even as he continued drinking his father’s piss behind him.

“Sorry I couldn’t come to the door,” John said. “Stiles needed a little pre-dinner drink for his nerves.”

Derek chuckled. “I understand, sir.”

“Please call me John, son,” his dad said, and he could feel his father lean over his head slightly, to shake Derek’s hand.

All of which was a good sign, Stiles thought as he noted his dad’s stream lighten slightly. If dad was shaking Derek’s hand and telling him to call him by his first name, he was unlikely to shoot the man dating his only son.

“Oh, give me a second to finish up, Derek,” John said, and put his left hand on Stiles’ head. Years of routine meant Stiles knew exactly what was coming, even as John pulled his cock out of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles kept his mouth open so John could deliver one last squirt–”One for the road,” his dad used to say when he was younger, making Stiles giggle–before tapping his cock on the edge of Stiles’ lip and letting him lick any last drop from the end before tucking himself away. 

“That’s my baby toilet,” John said affectionately, patting him on the head in thanks.

Stiles rolled his eyes, embarrassed at the use of his old family pet name. “Daaaaad,” glancing over at Derek.

“I know, I know,” John said, and then continued in what was obviously supposed to be an impersonation of Stiles, “‘I’m not a baby, Daaaad.’ Well, you’ll always be my baby toilet to me.”

There was a ding from the kitchen, cutting short the old argument as Stiles rose to his feet to greet his new boyfriend. It’s not as if he minded, since John did still regularly wake him up in the middle of the night with a sleepy, “Open up, baby toilet.” But it wasn’t exactly something you wanted your new boyfriend to hear.

“Good timing, all around,” John said, and led the way to the kitchen where he could retrieve the meatloaf from the oven.

Stiles hung back to greet Derek properly, allowing the kiss on his cheek, rather than the usual greeting on the lips. He never expected anyone to kiss him on the mouth who wasn’t a uro into piss in some way, at least not before he’d brushed his teeth or been disinfected with Uro Sparkle!, the way Derek usually did at work.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Stiles said, suddenly feeling shy, though he wasn’t sure why. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Derek said, smiling nervously. “Do I look okay?”

Stiles smiled at him, and assured him he looked fine as they walked into the dining room.

“Nothing fancy,” John said as Derek and Stiles sat down next to each other at the table a few moments later. John placed the plated meatloaf down next to a bowl of salad and a dish of potatoes. “We’re neither of us much of a cook. Hope you weren’t dating Stiles for the food.”

Derek smiled politely and shook his head. “It looks great. Oh, here.” Derek handed over the bottle he’d brought in the door. “Stiles said you might like this.”

John took the bottle of wine–it was, in fact, the table wine Stiles had suggested to him when Derek asked if he could bring something–and smiled approvingly. “Thank you, son, you didn’t have to bring it, but it does look good. Let me go get the bottle opener.”

Stiles gave Derek a thumbs-up, which Derek rolled his eyes at. 

John was back a few moments later, open bottle in hand. “What were you wanting, Stiles?” he asked as he poured glasses for himself and Derek. “I’m afraid you tapped me out for a while, but I know you still have some of Scott’s and possibly a little bit of Chris’ left over from the last time he and Isaac were here.”

Stiles contemplated whose piss (kept in the fridge for mealtimes that his friends generously provided him for those moments when he was not able to drink straight from the tap, though it was his preference) would go best with the meal when Derek said, almost shyly, “Actually, I’d be happy to make Stiles a glass. I know he prefers it warm, anyway.”

Stiles smiled affectionately at his boyfriend, and passed over his wineglass with a thank you.

Derek put it down under the table and discretely filled it up as John started to dish out the meal.

When Derek handed over the half-full glass, he took a sip and sighed happily at the now familiar flavor. “Thanks, this should go great with the meatloaf.”

Derek smirked at him. “I thought ‘white’ went better with fish,” he joked.

John joined in, “‘White’ goes with everything for Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but joined in with the chuckles at the good-natured teasing at the meal began.

“So, Derek,” John said as they all settled in to eat. “I know you work back of house at your uncle’s restaurant–Stiles says you take good care of him, installing him, keeping him clean, and uninstalling him every night. Do you have any plans for the future?”

What followed was Derek actually slowly, but surely, coming out of his shell for the rest of the meal, telling John his plans for opening his own restaurant in a year or two as soon as he had more experience managing. Stiles would occasionally interject a positive comment, but letting Derek express himself, happy to see him and his dad get along so well.

The evening passed a lot more quickly and relaxed than Stiles could have even hoped for, and Derek was able to provide him with at least one more refill of his glass during dinner, even as he and Dad worked through the better part of the bottle Derek brought.

Dinner done, Stiles got up to clear away the dishes waving off Derek when he tried to help.

“You guys go talk in the living room,” Stiles insisted. “Dad cooked and you’re a guest. I’ll take care of cleanup.”

He wasn’t thrilled about leaving Derek alone with his dad, even as he watched them head out of the room. It had all gone well, but there was always the possibility of his dad bringing out the family album and showing off every embarrassing photo he’d compiled over the years.

Everything cleaned up, he was relieved to see that while Derek and John were quietly chatting, the photo album was not in sight.

“Oh, Stiles,” John said as he entered the room. “I was just telling Derek about the dinner with the mayor we’re supposed to have at the end of the month.” John made a face and Stiles laughed at him.

Being sheriff was something Stiles knew his dad loved, but there were so many political things his dad hated. Shmoozing was definitely one of them, especially with the government types.

“You’ve got to make these political connections, Dad,” Stiles said for the hundredth time, he was sure, as he sat down next to Derek on the couch. “It’s a pain, but you know it’ll help you in the long run.”

John made another face, but conceded. “Yeah, I know. Anyway, Derek, Stiles volunteered to be the urinal for the night–you know he always is at home, but I thought it would seem extra fancy if I officially installed him, like you have him at The Benefactor,” John continued. “Stiles had told me about some of the new equipment the Health Department had insisted he be installed with, and I picked up some stuff at the hardware store. Now, we’ve never gone for anything like that in this house--the bathroom sort of became Stile's second bedroom when he was growing up, but you tap him on the head and he just opens up, same as always–so I’m not entirely sure what to do. He suggested I ask your professional opinion on how best to go about it.”

Stiles felt more than a little pride as Derek seemed genuinely touched to be asked for help by the father of his boyfriend. “I’d be happy to help any way I can, sir.”

“John,” John insisted with a smile. 

Derek smiled back. “John,” he repeated. “Maybe if you showed me your set-up, I could give you some quick pointers.”

Stiles stood up, eager to help the guys with this bonding moment. “Actually, I have a better idea. Why don’t you guys go ahead and install me completely. It’ll be sort of like a dry run tonight.”

“More like a wet run,” John said, and they all shared a laugh.

So, they all three headed up to the main guest bathroom.

As John had said earlier, they’d never been particularly formal in the house about Stiles’ duties as a uro, but he’d still been thrilled when John surprised him a few years ago by installing a urinal station in the bathroom, while Stiles had been away visiting with his grandparents. “Everyone should have their favorite chair,” John had said with a chuckle and an affectionate rub of Stiles’ head, even as Stiles eagerly sat himself in it to test out how comfortable it was.

Now, as they came in to the room, Stiles saw some of the modifications they had made over the years. The urinal stand, while not as fancy as his station at the Benefactor, had always had a nice, cushy bicycle seat for him to sit on, but the usual seat had been replaced earlier in the evening by his dad with one with a built in mount.

“Stiles told me about how he has to be mounted now,” John explained to Derek. “I know we don’t have to follow the same rules here as you guys do in the restaurant, but Stiles explained he really got into a better headspace of being a urinal now, and he thought it and the other things helped. So I figured why not.”

Derek nodded. and Stiles began to disrobe in preparation for being installed, while John showed Derek the other equipment he had laid out on the counter by the sink.

While his dad was right, he'd spent a lot of time in here growing up, thinking of the bathroom as his sort of 'safe space', he’d never spent a huge amount of time in here during parties at the house, since his dad always let him do “honey bucket” duty in the backyard so he could socialize with everyone between people needing to relieve themselves. He’d been thinking that while he was used to his duties as the urinal in The Benefactor’s men’s room, there was a more steady number of men needing his services in an evening, between the patrons and staff. For this dinner, there would just be about six people, and he’d have to see if he could get into a head space enough to not mind being on his own that much.

Hence, the test run.

When he discarded the last of his clothes in the laundry basket, he turned to see John holding out an item to Derek Stiles hadn’t seen in years. 

“Dad!” Stiles said, taking it. “I can’t believe you kept this!” He was unsure whether to feel touched or vaguely embarrassed.

“Hey, I couldn’t throw out your first ball clamp!” his dad exclaimed good-naturedly, taking it back. “You wore this the entire time you were the lacrosse team urinal! It’s almost like other people’s baby shoes.”

Stiles had to concede that was probably the case. Still.

“I know you keep him in a sleeve at the restaurant,” John explained to Derek, “but I gotta admit I’ve always liked seeing how hard he gets servicing men. It’s cute.”

Stiles groaned in embarrassment, hand over his face.

“It is!” his dad said defensively. “But, you know, he’s a dribbler. I figured the clamp would be good, just to make sure he doesn’t get anything on anyone’s pants.”

“Good idea,” Derek agreed. Stiles knew Derek enjoyed, too, how hard Stiles got when he drank his piss off-duty. He’d usually ask Stiles to lower his pants, if they were spending the evening at Derek’s place, so he could see it while he relieved himself in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles wasn’t going to apologize for his biology, in any case, he just wished his dad would stop calling it ‘cute’ some day.

“Okay,” John said, slapping Stiles gently on his bare shoulder. “Ready to go, son?” 

“Sure, Dad,” Stiles said, and they both turned to Derek.

“Okay, show me how it’s done,” John told Derek, and stepped back.

“Well, you want to first make sure you have a good mounting,” Derek explained, going into professional mode. The tone of voice relaxed Stiles the last little bit, and he got into the mindset he needed before being installed. “Looks like you got a good layer of lube on the mount,” Derek said approvingly.

Stiles didn’t move, knowing he shouldn’t until Derek actually moved him, but did see the wet sheen on the mount from the corner of his eye. Liam, if he had to install Stiles for the evening because Derek wasn’t available, didn’t always do a good job with that, which made the mounting process less than comfortable. Of course Stiles couldn’t say anything about it until his next break, so he just had to bear it.

“Now,” Derek continued, beginning to maneuver him physically over to the urinal seat and mount, “you’ll want to gently move Stiles around until the mount is centered properly.” 

Derek had Stiles bent forward at that point in order for him and his dad to more easily see where the mount was in relation to Stiles’ hole.

“It might take a while to find the entry point,” Derek explained, moving Stiles around gently. “But you’ll know you’re at the right point–-there,” he said, as Stiles let out a soft sigh when he felt the tip of the mount right at the entrance of his hole.

“Hm,” John said, contemplatively.

“Now,” Derek said, stepping back. and pushing Stiles upright. “You’ll want to push down gently until you get a good mount. Remember, gravity is going to help you with this, so you don’t have to go too hard.” And Derek matched actions to words, lowering Stiles gently–-more gently than he normally did during a normal installation at the restaurant–-until Stiles let out another quiet sigh as a his anus closed around the base of the mount. “There you go.”

Derek then leaned him forward again. “See,” he continued. “You can see it’s a solid mount. Always good to check it by feel, too.” Derek ran his fingers along his hole where it was stuffed on the mount. “Have a feel.”

John rolled his one shirt sleeve up, like he would do before any plumbing, and ran his fingers around the seal.

Stiles suppressed a shiver.

Both men laughed as Stiles was pushed back upright, and they saw his dick again.

“Told you he was a dribbler,” John chuckled. Stiles wished he could glare at him, but remained eyes ahead, already feeling very content to be where he was.

“Time to get that clamp on him, then,” Derek said, laughter still in his voice. He worked efficiently to fit the small clamp–which, truthfully, was tighter than Stiles remembered–around his balls, leaving his cock free to be as hard as it wanted, but would keep any more precome or actual ejaculate from escaping.

“There we go,” Derek said, giving Stiles’ captured balls an affectionate pat, making his dick jerk again and the men laugh again. 

Stiles wished he could resent them for laughing at his unrelieved cock, but he was honestly just happy the men seemed to be bonding, even if it was just over installing him.

“Now, were you planning to restrain him?” Derek asked John.

“I don’t usually,” John said contemplatively, “but it might look better if we did. What do you think?”

Derek hummed for a moment. “Honestly, I do think it’s more elegant if a uro is restrained. And it makes it obvious he’s taking his work seriously and not playing with himself between customers.”

John nodded his head in agreement, and pulled out the little-used straps on the side of the station. Stiles felt himself settle in, relaxing that little bit more into his role, as his wrists were tied down. 

"Now, let’s see the washer you got,” Derek said, going back over to the bathroom counter.

“I did some research,” John was telling him as they walked out of Stiles’ immediate line of sight. “And the guy at the hardware store suggested this would be a good fit. Comfortable for both men and urinal.”

“Well,” Derek said, and Stiles could hear him edit his words before he said them, “it will definitely work. It’s slightly different dimensions than what we have at work, but again, you don’t have to deal with the regulations we do, so I think it’ll be okay.”

Both men walked back into Stiles’ field of vision, and Derek briskly opened Stiles’ mouth and inserted the washer.

It was different from his work washers. This one was slightly larger, forcing Stiles’ jaw open further than normal, but not uncomfortably so. It was, however, slightly shorter, so it didn’t go quite as far into his mouth, so anyone who inserted their dick to relieve themselves would still be able to have more of that “natural mouth-feel” most men seemed to enjoy with human urinals.

Derek stepped back and said, “So, what do you think?”

Stiles waited as John hemmed and hawed and paced in front of him, apparently looking at him from multiple angles. 

“I like it,” John finally said. “Looks pretty professional. And, really, I know there’s not a lot of stuff, but I’d almost not even recognize it’s Stiles. It could be any uro at any fancy private party.”

Stiles felt a swell of pride at the words from his father. 

“And you know,” John went on, “that wine from dinner really went through me. Mind if I give it a test run?”

Derek chuckled. “It’s your urinal,” he said, and stepped out of the bathroom. Before he closed the door, though, he said, “I’d recommend standing a little farther away than normal. The washer does add a certain something to the experience.”

Once Derek closed the door, his dad turned back to Stiles, unzipping his pants with a sigh. 

“Stand back, huh,” his dad muttered to himself, and stood with his dick a couple of inches from Stiles’ mouth.

When the first stream hit, it was centered perfectly at Stiles’ mouth. As always, Stiles enjoyed the taste of his father’s urine, finding comfort and relaxation in this act.

He also, however, now enjoyed the sound. It was something that he’d gotten quite fond of since the addition of the washers at work: keeping his mouth pried open meant that whenever a man pissed into his mouth, the sound of the liquid pouring into him was very similar to what it sounded like when a man peed into a porcelain toilet. There was something about it that made Stiles feel very contented.

“Huh,” his dad said, then chuckled. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was because of the sound or because he noted Stiles’ dick twitch again.

As the stream dribbled and the last spurt was delivered, John looked over his shoulder at the door, as if thinking about something. Then he shrugged and muttered, “What the hell,” and shoved his dick full length into Stiles’ open mouth.

Stiles had always been content, like most uros, to take whatever a man would normally give to them out of their dick. Yes, normally that was just urine, and what a uro needed to survive, but it was also typical to be jacked off into. And, as long as it didn’t devolve into an actual blowjob, throat-fucking was not unusual in Stiles’ experience, men usually treating him as a blow-up doll.

The first time his dad had jerked off into his mouth, he’d seemed totally guilt-ridden, having forgotten in his half-asleep state that this wasn’t just any uro at a truck stop, but his own son. It had taken a lot of convincing–A LOT–from Stiles assuring him it was okay, and there wasn’t anything wrong what John had done. In fact, Stiles reasoned, John was still a relatively young man who rarely dated after the death of Stiles’ mother, and it made more sense for him to relieve his perfectly healthy urges into Stiles’ mouth, and certainly much neater.

While it wasn’t a daily occurrence, it wasn’t all that unusual these days for his dad to end a nice, long, end of the day piss with a throat fuck, such as what he was delivering to him now.

Years of practice meant Stiles did not choke at all, even as his dad’s cock made it all the way into the opening of his throat, his pubes almost touching where his mouth was forced open wide by the washer.

Stiles smiled inwardly as he couldn’t do physically at the moment, as John grunted, pulling down on his own balls as he sometimes did, one hand on the wall above his head, as only a few minutes later he shot his load into the urinal in front of him.

Stiles was disappointed that John had shot straight down his throat, and that he couldn’t clean his father’s cock as he deserved because of the washer–John’s come tasting almost as good as his piss, in Stiles’ opinion–but he knew time and tidiness were of the essence, since Derek was waiting out in the hallway.

John quickly went over to the sink to wash up and catch his breath. Meanwhile, Stiles thought about how sore his balls would be by the end of the evening. He hoped Derek would be extra nice to them in bed tonight.

When John opened the door, trying to seem as if he hadn’t just been jerking off in the bathroom, Derek was waiting in the hallway.

“So, what do you think,” Derek said, and only because Stiles knew him so well did he hear the smirk in his voice.

“Works good,” John said, still a little breathless. 

There was a pause–Stiles didn’t have a good vantage point where he was to the door–then the two men chuckled together, John only slightly embarrassed. 

“Don’t worry,” Derek said casually, “I know how hard it is to resist a uro’s throat sometimes. Especially on our special model here.”

“Heh,” John laughed.

Derek started back into the bathroom, Stiles assumed to uninstall him, but John stopped him.

“Wait,” he said, and Derek turned towards him. “Let’s leave him here for now. It’s supposed to be a trial run, after all.”

It was Derek’s turn to laugh ruefully, and the two men turned to leave the room.

“Hey, how about a beer? And I think there’s a game on,” John offered as he turned off the light and closed the bathroom door again, leaving most of the bathroom in darkness.

Stiles sighed, happy that the two most important men in his were getting a chance to bond.

“I think this dinner was a complete success,” he thought, as he settled back on his mount and waited until one of them needed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Tumblr.


End file.
